Nick
"I met this girl at your last show and she offered me the use of her darkroom."
"Did you show her the frog chimp?"
Lauren laughed. "I'm surprised you haven't been kicked out of Germany for walking around and showing everyone that thing. It's gross."
"It's epic. Everyone needs a good frog every once and awhile."
"Every once in awhile? I think you're a multi-frogger."
Lauren stopped in front of an old brick building and yanked open the glass door. I leaned towards her, grinning.
"But you like my chimp--"
"IN!"
I laughed as I followed her instructions. My heart squeezed uncomfortably as she took my hand and led the way. The whole frog chimp banter was just another thing that I loved about being with Lauren. Heather would have realized what the chimp was doing in that video and shut it off. Lauren had curled up on my lap and watched the whole thing, helping me with a running commentary while we began munching on apples.
In my mind, I had a different image of a darkroom then what it really turned out to be. For one, it was loaded with equipment. Walk space was minimal. Harsh lights dangled overhead and two large spotlights were positioned at an angle coming out of the wall and aimed right at a large basin.
"You look disappointed."
Laur swung her bag up on a table and began yanking out...stuff. I shoved my hands in my pockets.
"I'm not disappointed," I said. "I just thought it would be more...Ghost-like."
"Ghost-like?"
"Yeah, yanno, where Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore--"
"That's pottery. This is photography."
"I know, but--"
"You'll be using your hands in a second."
She said it with a smile. She had her hair (blonde, sigh) pulled up in a french braid. The loose peasant top tried, but failed at hiding her killer body. I rocked from foot to foot and kept my eyes on her. Slowly, I began to relax. Watching her was cathartic for some reason. "We'll develop these as black and whites," she explained. "If we did color we'd have to work in pitch black and since you're a novice--"
"I work great in pitch black," I said. Laur's eyes sparkled.
"Maybe with me, but not around chemicals."
I watched as she poured a large bottle or two in the basin. I had seen enough horror movies that included random chemicals as part of the torture that I didn't push any farther.
"A little light's good," I said aloud.
In fact, it was good. She flipped on the angled lights and warm red light flooded the room. It got kinkier when she flipped off the mainlight.
"It's the red light district," I whispered, my head tilted up to the ceiling. Laur's fingers gripped my scratchy chin, yanking my gaze back down.
"Watch and learn."
Now, I tried to be a good student. I really did. She was a great teacher. But she was also a great teacher with an amazing ass. And the room was so small. It wasn't really my fault I ended up grabbing her hips and pushing her back against me.
"When do we get to the step where we have to occupy our waiting time?" I asked. I slid my hand up her side and around to the front. The loose material of the blouse was no match for my roaming thumb and forefinger. She sucked in a breath as I made nipple contact.
"Two minutes," she said breathlessly.
I have to give her credit. Her concentration was totally fucked, but she still managed to do...well, whatever the hell she was doing. I had stopped being a good student about five minutes in. Finally, she clipped the last picture up, yanked off her gloves, and spun around. The red light on her blonde hair made her look like she was glowing. All of a sudden I realized she looked like that one really hot babe from World of Warcraft.
Zing.
I'm not sure how much time passed after my 'zing' moment, but Lauren's hands were pressed into the counter where she had put her camera bag and we had ditched frog chimp for doggy when I distinctly heard a sound outside of the darkroom door. At first I chalked it up to one of Lauren's moans, but pretty soon I heard it again. My hands pressed into her slender bag and I leaned down closer to her.
"Someone's out there," I whispered.
"What?" Laur asked distractedly. "No, no...keep going."
Two things happened at that exact moment. The first was that the red lights went off. Lauren and I were bathed in blackness.
The second thing that happened was the door opened.
I know it doesn't sound romantic, but I still had my pants hovering around my ankles. For once, that worked out to my advantage. I made fast work of penguin stepping back and yanking them up.
"Hello?" I called. I felt like I had somehow gotten a role in a remake of Hostel or Saw. I screamed like a girl when a hand wrapped around my arm. A flashlight flicked on right in my face. The girl looking at me couldn't have been older than twenty. She had light brown freckles scattered over her cheeks and her hair was done in rasta braids. No joke. She smiled and began to ramble in German.
My German wasn't good. People fed me lines, I repeated said lines, and that was it. My mouth fell open as she stopped and seemed to be waiting for me to respond. Her hand kept squeezing my arm. I turned and looked at Lauren. She ran her hand over her skirt, her face flushed.
"This is the Hilda. She owns this place."
"Uh...danke," I said.
Hilda's eyes lit up. She pointed at Lauren and started rambling all over again. Lauren looked as lost as I did. Hilda seemed to catch on when neither of us responded to her a second time. So, she did what anyone with a language barrier would do.
She used action. She walked over to Lauren, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out of the darkroom. I had taken exactly three steps towards the exit, when Hilda spun around.
"Nick, I think-" Lauren said loudly. Hilda slammed the door right in her face. I heard the lock turn...
And then she turned off the flashlight.
Uh-oh. I was stuck in the pitch black with some German chick. Something told me my 'danke' had just committed me to something that I didn't want to do. And even if I had wanted to do it (which, I didn't), I didn't have time.
This had been my swan song with Lauren. My plane was set to leave in a little over two hours.
Somehow I didn't think Heather's mother would believe I missed my flight because I was being raped in a German darkroom.
Heather
I was so excited. I was about to get some killer notes for Eric and Holly. Dinner with Brian was going to be fun, of course (most things with Brian are fun after all), but I needed to make sure that it was also partly business as well. After all, Brian was Eric, wasn’t he? I needed to study Brian and take notes about things like mannerisms and the way he held his fork. I needed to know all his little idiosyncrasies that would bring the third dimension to the character. The readers had to adore Eric the way that I adored Brian. Except even more. They had to want Holly to end up with Eric in the end.
Like people had once thought about Brian and I.
I remember Brian’s wedding in 2000; I was one of the “best men”. Chris took the ultimate honor as the official best man, but I’d joined the crowd of people that he’d had standing by his side at the altar, dressed up like penguins with pale carnations pinned to our chest. I’d been given a form-fitting women’s tuxedo style outfit and a tie. It was so silly, but it was so Brian.
My mother and I were sitting in the private room across the hall from the boys’ dressing room, where Chris and Brian and the other fellas were shouting anxiously. Mom had closed the door to afford us some peace and was braiding my hair so that the top hat I’d be donning during the ceremony would sit slightly crooked on my cranium. She smiled quietly as she smoothed flyaway hairs from my face into the braid. “I can’t believe Brian’s getting married,” she said tenderly.
“I can,” I answered. “Brian was bound to get snatched up by someone. He’s a great person.”
“I just can’t believe it’s not you that’s going to be walking up the aisle,” she said quietly.
“Mo-ohm,” I groaned, “Please – this is BRIAN we’re talking about.”
She smiled sadly, “I know, I know… I’m sorry, but honey, I honestly thought you would end up together in the end. So didn’t Jackie. He’s just always been so gentle with you.”
“Ew, no! That’s like incest, practically,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “God, it’s people like you that give Kentucky a bad name, ma!” But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that her words were crawling under my skin, tingling somewhere under my left breast. In my heart. I swallowed and tried to shove it from my mind.
Suddenly the door creaked opened and Brian’s head poked in. He smiled, “How’s we doin’-doin’ ober heres?” he asked in a goofy voice only Brian could speak with. He smirked and came in the rest of the way once he’d seen that we weren’t like naked or something.
“I think we’re done actually,” my mother said, standing up and smiling at me. She smoothed the very last piece of my hair behind my ear and turned to Brian with sad, doe-like eyes. “You’re the most adorable groom there ever was,” she told him.
“Thanks Marietta,” Brian said, smiling. “And speaking of adorable,” he’d turned to me. “Look at you, kiddo!”
My mom petted Brian’s arm carefully and said, “Well I’m going to go get myself a seat on your side of the church before it fills out and they make me sit out in the street.” She pecked his cheek. “Leighanne is a lucky woman,” she said quietly, “You’re a wonderful man. I can only wish that there were more men like you left in the world.” And with that, she scurried out of the room.
Brian waited until my mom had left the room before he turned to me. “Since you weren’t interested in the bachelor party…” he held up a tiny bottle of liquor and two teeny tiny, thumb-sized shot glasses he’d popped into his pocket. He dropped them on the side table I was seated next to and filled them before handing me one and holding his own. “To my favorite best man.”
I blushed. “To my favorite groom.”
Brian laughed, “I’m the only groom.”
I nodded. Suddenly my mouth felt dry around him. Suddenly, everything seemed to be spiraling like crazy. Suddenly Brian was Brian. And it was then that I realized I had secretly always thought I’d end up with Brian, too.
But I’d gotten over it. I’d stood there at the alter, and watched as Brian’s face light up as Leighanne Wallace walked up the aisle between the pews. I’d seen the solidarity in his eyes as he’d spoken the words I do and watched as their mouths touched, sealing the deal with a kiss.
I’d let him go before I ever knew I’d been holding on.
But I was a big girl now and Brian was a married man.
I’d been tempted to pull out my teal prom dress, which mom had carefully preserved all these years. She even still had the tiara. For your little girl someday she’d said when I asked her why she was keeping it. I fingered the material as it hung in the closet. But I’d settled on a quaint yellow gingham sundress and I stuck a small sunflower in my braided hair. I stood by the mailbox in my dress and Converse sneakers until Brian pulled up. He stopped the car and got out to open the door for me and smirked as I climbed in. He pointed at my sneakers, “Some things just never change, huh?”
“My feet need to be comfortable,” I said, “Besides, God only knows when I might have to jump up and sprint after you.” I stared at him pointedly.
Brian flushed, and quickly closed the door.
Four hours later, I was laughing so hard I thought I’d split a seam and my stuffing would fall out as Brian bounced from foot to foot, wildly wielding the plastic and foam hammer, playing Whack a Mole. He was shouting and making crazy sounds – noises only Brian was capable of making – springing about in his big goofy white sneakers like he was Speedy Gonzalez or something. “I’ll get yoooou!” he sang out, the oooo ringing in the arcade.
All around us, activity flurried, but I’d only been concentrating on Brian for the past several hours. I had about a million notes crammed into my head about things that Eric could do that would make any reader fall madly head over heels in love with the character. I’d never felt so inspired to go home and work on my novel as I did at that instant. Basing the character on Brian had been the best idea I’d ever had in my entire life.
“Here,” Brian gasped, breathless and holding up his weapon of mass mole-struction to me. “You try.”
I laughed, “I’m okay, thanks though.”
Brian put the mallet down on the game and studied me a second. His eyes traveled from my head to my toes and he smiled. “You’re pretty,” he said.
It was so out of the blue that I was caught off guard. “Excuse me?” I asked.
Brian laughed, “You’re pretty. I just never noticed before.”
“Are you saying I’m usually ugly?” I blinked in surprise.
Brian snorted, “Aw kiddo, you’re funny.” He wrapped an arm over my shoulders. “No I’m saying you look extra pretty is all.” He tucked me closer to him and I felt safe as he led me through the arcade and out the door onto the sidewalk and the night air.
We’d gone to dinner at our once favorite diner and enjoyed some small talk over frappes and burgers and Brian had listened to me as I talked about my insecurities about Nick. He’d nodded and munched his fries, and amazingly had not run off like he had that morning. Of course, I didn’t sob quite like I had in the tree house, either. Somehow it was harder to feel sorry for myself when Brian smiled.
The sidewalk was nearly empty at this time of night, and the few yet still beautiful lights of downtown twinkled at us, like they were winking knowingly. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly felt like I was on a date instead of just a thing with a friend and I wondered what Brian was feeling.
I shivered.
“Aw kid,” he untucked his arms from around me and pulled off the loose-fitting flannel shirt he’d worn over his t-shirt. He slid it over my shoulders. “I know it’s not a whole lot,” he laughed, “But I didn’t bring my jacket.” He smiled.
I breathed deeply, smelling the Safari cologne he’d always worn on the fabric. I looked at him, “Thanks, Brian.”
“You must be tired,” he said, reading into my shiver. He glanced at his watch. “And no wonder, it’s late!” He laughed, “Let’s get you home, Cinderella, before you turn into a pumpkin.”
When we reached the house, Brian walked me to the stoop like the gentleman he’s always been. He held my hand. I stare down at the place our hands met, where our fingers coiled around eachother. I stared at the slight whisper of hair on Brian’s knuckles and imagined them when he was old, clutching the arm of a rocking chair on the porch, staring out at a sunset. He would have sexy old man knuckles, I thought to myself.
We stood on the porch awkwardly, Brian staring down at me with a smile on his face. “I really enjoyed tonight,” he said quietly.
“I did too,” I agreed. My heart was pounding. Why was my heart pounding? “It was just like old times,” I added.
Brian hesitated. “Not… quite… like the old times,” he disagreed. He started to lean closer to me.
It took his eyes closing and his mouth slowly parting open before I realized that Brian was about to kiss me. And in the seconds it took him to lean in, my mind spun through a series of thoughts so fast that I could scarcely keep up with them:
Brian’s gonna kiss me.
Why is Brian kissing me?
What about Nick?
What about Leighanne?
Does Brian love me?
Do I love Brian?
Oh my God, I love Brian.
I’ve always loved Brian.
I want Brian to kiss me.
Why have I never kissed Brian before?
Oh God, what if I screw up this kiss?
I’m gonna screw up this kiss.
Close your eyes and pucker up, Heather! He’s almost there!
Brian’s mouth was so close now that I could taste his breath sliding between his lips and I felt the brush of his skin on my mouth and his lips parting mine and his hands touching my hips, pulling me closer… I was about to melt into him and once I melted there would be no turning back…
My knees went gooey and I started to lean in…
And that’s when the front door opened.
Brian
I leaped back so fast that I could’ve made the earth spin the wrong way if I’d been a little heavier of a guy. My head was certainly spinning the wrong direction. Heather’s mouth had been so close to mine, my chest so close to having hers pressed against mine, my hands dangerously close to her bottom… and the door was pouring out incomprehensible light, that pooled at our feet like liquid gold, massive portions of it blocked out by the hulking shape of……
Nick.
“Hey guys!” Nick yelled, too enthusiastically. And I knew, the moment he spoke, he’d seen it. He knew what had been about to happen. He reached out and wrapped his arms around each of our necks. I pictured him squeezing just a little too hard, popping me like a zit and mourning the loss of his best friend as though it’d been an accident that he’d killed me.
“Nick!” Heather gasped, her eyes sparking. She stared up at his slightly unshaven chin in surprise. “When did you –“
“I just got here,” he said, sprawling out his words the way Nick is infamous for doing. He grinned, “I had a helluva time in Germany…” he glanced at me, then looked back at Heather, “Looks like yall are having some fun, huh?” he asked.
I looked at my feet.
“We went to the arcade!” Heather said, laughing. “Brian killed about a million Whack-a-Moles.”
“Yeah, Brian’s always been good at whacking,” Nick said. He disengaged his arm from my neck and guided Heather to the door. “C’mon lets go inside,” he suggested brightly.
I feigned a yawn. “I’m exhausted actually I’m gonna just go ho—“
“No.” Nick firmly grabbed my arm, “I want you here for this.”
He pulled me and Heather inside and kicked the door shut behind him, leading us into the living room. “So when did your flight get in?” Heather asked.
“Not too long ago,” he said, “I left a little later than I’d planned.”
“Where’s your car?” I asked. “I didn’t see a rental in the driveway…”
“Marietta picked me up.”
“Oh.”
I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. Something was nagging me… and I had a feeling that I knew what Nick was here for. After all… why else would he come to Kentucky, the place he referred to as America’s buttcrack?
I watched Heather as she moved through the room, and everything got kind of fuzzy around her, like when the focus of a camera is only on one part of the image. Every noise except the sound of her laugh faded away into a hazy humming and I felt like some part of me had sunk to the very depths of my toes.
I’d waited too long.
